


Two-Faced Lover

by Lawfuless



Series: A Myriad Of Tales About A Multi-faced Man [1]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: AU, Aisha is dead, Alternate Universe - Police, Boss is quirky, Brimstone is Jezebel, Dane is good, M/M, Retconned world ending for GOOH, Things are different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawfuless/pseuds/Lawfuless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the capture of Brimstone, the Hellfire gang has set it's sight on the Stilwater Police. Specifically, the so-called 'Saints' sector. Lieutenant Gat must work alongside not only his partners, but also a mysterious man who claims to be apart of the gang, wishing to assist the officer for his own reasons. As things come to a head, Johnny will come to question whether duty should come before morality.... And if he can ever move on from Aisha's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Faceless Figure

**Author's Note:**

> The only thing I own is the plot, to be honest. Male Boss is less an OC than my version of a character. The relationship will be pretty slow, the plot will progress somewhat quick. It will be switching POVs, I will make a note when it does. I'll try to update when I can... I think that about covers it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only thing I own is the plot, to be honest. Male Boss is less an OC than my version of a character. The relationship will be pretty slow, the plot will progress somewhat quick. It will be switching POVs, I will make a note when it does. I'll try to update when I can... I think that about covers it.

Johnny Gat was not a naive man.

He knew quite well that capturing Brimstone would not end the Gang warfare. The 'Hellfire' gang would continue it's crusade in attempting to take over the city. The 'Morningstar's Fallen' would keep up the prostitution and sex-slave rings, not to mention their drug trafficking, and their combat with the Hellfire. Lucifer hated Satan. Which sounded hilarious when one had read the bible. And the other two gangs, the 'Kingdom', and 'Heavenly Host' would vie for the top spots as well.

But he at least considered the groups to take pause. And they did. The Gangs took pause in their actions, waiting to find out what move the Police would make.

As head of his department, the 'Saints', as they were called, they openly took on the gang. In a way, they were a gang made up of Police, and did anything they had to to make sure the other groups would keep in line. Eradicating them wouldn't work, he knew as much from Dane Vogel, who used to run a company that worked in gang eradication. It flopped, but at least the Saints got a backer out of it, and an occasional extra hand.

It was during this reprieve that he received a letter, given to Dane from one of his contacts. He'd apparently been told to give it to Dane, with orders that it go to Gat specifically. Someone wanted his attention, whether he knew them or not.

"Johnny, got something for you." The shorter fellow drawled, holding a white envelope between his fingers. "Got this from a friend. Said he was dropped it at some point in time, and was told specifically to get it to me, so that I could get it to you."

Matt looked up from where he was playing one of his games. "That sounds rather specified, doesn't it? I mean, Gat, in particular?" he questioned aloud, frowning.

"Gotta be a trap." Kinzie input, not looking up.

Johnny took the letter, opening it. No bomb, or tracker, or anything. Just a note in careful penmanship.

' _Dear Lieutenant Gat,_

_You do not know me, nor should you be aware of my presence. I am a careful man, and thus know better than to leave myself open and unguarded. I am not, however, a stupid man, and therefore am very much aware of your recent actions. It would be difficult not to, with Satan himself all but screaming for blood. The Saints, in particular._

_So, being the astute person I am, I thought it would be wise to send you information ahead of time. Though I am amongst the Hellfire, I do not consider myself to be allied with them. In truth, I would much rather be working behind the dash of a cruiser than with bloody hands to fumble with._

_I care not if you should believe my words false, but you should know that this Friday, at 8 sharp, there will be a driveby shooting, to distract you from the true purpose, being the planting of a bomb within your headquarters. The following Monday, at 5pm, it will be detonated, and has a blast radius of 3 Kilometers. Survivors will be hunted down and eliminated accordingly._

_An ally in arms,_

_Fated._

_P.S. Should you wish to meet in person, come by the Rim Jobs on Third Street. Ask for 'Boss'._ '

He looked over the words again before passing it off to the others to read. The reaction was immediate.

"A BOMB? They're going to BOMB us?!" Matt exclaimed.

Kinzie scowled. "I still don't trust this 'Fated'. Obviously not his name. If he truly wanted to help, he would have said this in person, or given us his name."

But Dane shook his head. "No, no. It's smart. It ensures that if the letter was found, no one could trace it to him. If he wanted to deny involvement, he could. And he could make sure we won' go after him." he tapped his chin in thought. "But he did give his location. Rim Jobs on Third Street. If I were you, I would check it out."

Running a hand through jet-black hair, the Lieutenant groaned. "'Course it's on me... Ah, what the hell. I'll head over and check it out. If it's true, we got ourselves an inside man. If not, we know we don't have much to worry about. Just someone else after me."

His hands gripped the steering wheel as he navigated the twisting mess of roads that the city was. Though Matt had tried to accompany him, he'd brushed the other off. He needed to do this alone. Needed time to think.

The last time he'd had someone offer help had been in the form of another letter. It had been from 'Fated' as well, had detailed the location of Aisha's killer, to such detail that Johnny hadn't been sure that the other hadn't visited there themselves. But he had dismissed the letter angrily. He hadn't wanted help. As it turned out, though, one of the officers in the area had reported seeing Shogo. He'd had a chance to avenge her. But it had been his own self that had held him back then.

 _Watching as the blade cut the air expertly just as he set foot inside, hearing too late the cry of his love the 'It's a trap!' being the last words to pass her lips before the katana silenced her. Blood spraying out, following the blade in its wake. Knowing that she was dead, and he had been minutes too late. That he had been so close, but had failed._ His _fault._

The sound of horns brought him back, and he quickly hit the accelerate, going through the lights he'd stopped at. The store was in sight, and as he pulled up, he realized it was still bustling with workers. He pulled up to the side, but the door opened, light pouring out.

A shadowed figure beckoned him forwards, and he tried to wave them off. But at the insistence of the man, he pulled in and got out.

"Heard you about a block back. Sounds like your transmission is poor." The male stated.

He was of average height. 5'5", a bit of a slender build, but muscles were evident beneath the blue, long-sleeved shirt. It had black smudges from oil, same as his tan pants that seemed a size too big, held to his hips with a black belt. He wore large yellow gloves that easily went to his elbows, and knee-height black boots. What stuck out most was the gold helm he wore. Bell shaped, with holes for where the eyes should have been, but instead had white lenses. His ears were visible in slits up the side, depicting him as Caucasian and showing his pallor that his shirt wouldn't as it was high-collared. he held a large wrench, and had evidently been working on another car when he'd pulled up.

"Ah, I was gonna have it checked next week... Besides, you look kinda busy." he nodded to the object in the smaller's hands.

The man waved him off, heading over to the car to check it out. "Pet project of mine when I have the time." His accent, heavily British, echoed a bit in the helm as he worked, and also when he hummed to himself.

Johnny slowly nodded, watching for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. "I, uh, was told I should talk to 'Boss'? Said I could meet him in person."

The man didn't reply at once. Then stated, "Ah, it was just a loose part. Should be fine now."

He waited, then frowned. "Did you--"

"If you'd like to speak to the Boss, you should wait in his office. It'll be a little be until closing time, so if you could wait until then, he'll speak with you at that time."

The officer paused, then slowly nodded, watching the other head back to the car. Then he walked over to the office, heading in and sitting, waiting.

He texted to his colleagues, telling them what had been happening. Up until the door opened, half an hour later.

"Nice to meet you, Lieutenant. Apologies I couldn't speak with you earlier, but this matter is confidential and I'd rather my boys not hear what I have to say." The man from earlier greeted. "I am Fated. Also known as Boss. And Playa to some. Fate works fine, though. I'd tell you my proper name, but at the moment I require my identity to remain secret. Perhaps after this, I can tell you my actual name."

Gat looked up, putting his phone away and standing. He shook the offered hand, nodding. "Makes sense. So, why did you contact us?" he inquired.

Fate sighed. "I've been in this city for years, and the Gang violence has reached it's peak. To hear that we were going after the police, I wouldn't stand for it. I DO have morals, after all. Killing gang members is one thing. But killing innocents? Police officers? Reckless casualties? That's not how you build an empire. That's how you create a dictatorship. I'd rather end this before it starts, rather than clean up the aftermath." The tone was filled with passion and anger. He felt for the people of the city, Johnny could tell.

"And why not go against them?"

A scoff. "Why not remain where I have gotten myself to, and take them out from within? Therefore giving me the advantage? And proceeding to do the same with the others. It's not like anyone knows who I actually am save for my employer. He's the only one who's seen me. Everyone else believes I'm a legend. So, use that to my advantage. Then no one can trace me. No one can warn the others until it's too late."

Systematic. Methodical. Thoughtful. This was a man who knew what he was doing, knew what he was talking about. He wasn't like Johnny, who'd go into things without completely planning. He wasn't like Matt, who'd plan for only specific things. He wasn't like Kinzie, who went with things. He wasn't like Dane, who'd only prepare once he was certain. This was a man who would make plan after plan, figure everything out to a T, and then jump in, acting with precision and certainty.

"So, do you trust me?" The question was a bit of a surprise, thrown out when Johnny had been distracted. The taller thought on it.

The Lieutenant took a deep breath. "I have reason to believe you. I won't completely trust you yet, but we'll get along just fine."

A burst of laughter from the helmed man, who shook with the force of it. "Yes.... I believe that we will indeed."

As he watched the other, he felt that for once, things had gotten that much easier. He was confident when he left in his tuned-up car, and texted the others.

' _Guess who just made us a friend?_ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stage is set. Next, the cast is to be readied. And then, the curtains will open.


	2. A Hall of Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Fate on their side, Johnny decide it's time to amass their forces, and begin the idea that both Dane and Fate seemed to have-- ridding Stilwater of the gangs for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I only really own the idea. Will be introducing new characters. They will be working alongside Fate and Johnny, but mostly Fate.

"You're going to what?" Matt exclaimed

"WE are going to take out the gangs of Stilwater." Gat repeated for the third time.

Dane shook his head. "Didn't you learn anything from my run? It's not going to work."

There was an exasperate sigh. "Aren't we even going to mention the fact you don't even have a plan?" Kinzie pointed out, finally looking up to frown.

"Actually," came the retort of the new figure in the office, who knelt by an air conditioner as he worked to repair it. "I do have a plan. Whether the Lieutenant has one besides 'Take them all out' matters little so long as those who need to have one do."

Matt threw his hands in the air. "This is madness! We're relying on a known gang associate to take out other Gangs? Doesn't that make no sense whatsoever?"

Johnny's brows were knitted in annoyance, mouth pressed into a firm line. "Glad to see you still have faith in me. Look, Fate's cool. He'll help us. Now, what we need to focus on is getting help. We can't do this alone, as much as we'd like to. Even if Kinzie and Matt can hack their way through anything, and Dane could pretty much buy his way past obstacles, we still have the bullets to dodge from not only the Hellfire, but also the other three. The Fallen alone will be a challenge, not even considering the Kingdom or the Host."

"That's why I have contingency plans. And a lot of contacts." Fate replied.

The focus was on him. "What plans?" Kinzie asked as Dane huffed and demanded "What contacts are those?"

Just then, there was a knocking on the door. Fate rose from his haunches, turning just as the door opened.

Three figures, each in a different Gang colour, came in.

The first was a bright-eyed boy, hardly a teen with how small he was. 5'4", wearing robes of black with a white collar. That marked him as a Priest, but considering the pair of arm-blades set in holsters at his hips, he was one of the many under the Host. Pale blue eyes and messy blond hair that dipped into his vision, but he didn't seem that concerned, openly grinning at them and waving cheerily. His white zuchetto marked him as a lieutenant of his gang.

The second was a fierce-looking woman in grey. She was 5'7" with heels putting her up a good four inches. She wore sunglasses to hide her eyes, and had shoulder-length blond hair, parted at the side. She wore a grey blazer and a black top, with a grey pencil skirt, and black tights. The feather clipped to a strand of hair put her as one of the Morningstar's Fallen, and considering it was black, it put her rather high up. She had a pistol at her hip, which she rested her hand on, jaw clenched in evident distrust.

The final wore chaimail and a blue tabbard. He wore a helm, so they couldn't see his face. He was easily 5'10" Still shorter than Gat, but taller than quite a few of the others in the room. Apart of the Kingdom, from the colours, and attire. He had a sword at his side. He was tense, obviously uncomfortable with being there.

"This is Justice. A member of the Host. Vengeance, of the Fallen. And Destiny, of the Kingdom. They are my go-to people. Similar minded, and willing to do whatever it takes to drive the Gangs from this city."

A snort from the knight, and the helmed head of Destiny shook. "You mean zhe crazy people who vant to take on zheir own because zhey don't like how zhings are going?" He pointed out, German accent resounding heavily in the metal enclosure.

"What else would you call us?" Sneered the woman, lips curling distastefully. "Besides traitors, turncoats or betrayers? But, I can't disagree. Change is coming to Stilwater. Who better to herald it?" English, similarly to Fate, but lighter, and more of a purr then the occasionally growling version of his.

"Oh, I'd call us the smart ones!" Boasted the teen, rocking on his heels. Canadian, from the way Justice spoke. "I mean, who else would plan something so huge but people who know what they're doing?"

Fate cleared his throat. "Justice has a point. But that isn't why I called you here. These four are. Meet the Saints. The Lieutenant and I have reached an agreement to take out the gangs. You're here because you agree with us."

Johnny gestured to his people. "This is Matt, Kinzie, and Dane. And I'm Johnny." he introduced.

Vengeance scoffed. "Honestly, it matters little. At most, we'll speak through messages or calls. This little meeting won't be a daily happenstance. Am I making sense to you?"

"Don't be such a harpy, Vengeance." Destiny chuckled. "Ve have our tasks, ve'll get to zhem vhen ve can. Und if zhat takes time, so be it. But if ve need to meet, ve'll arrange it. Until zhen."

With that, the three parted without more to be said. It was a bit annoying they could just walk in and out as they pleased, but Gat wouldn't make a fuss. He had been warned ahead of time- albeit cryptically- that the Hellfire member had a few friends dropping by for a moment.

"So. That's our plan?" Dane was evidently doubtful.

Fate shook a helmed head. "No. The plan is to- bit by bit- corner the gangs while they're distracted, and then cut them off completely before going in for the proverbial kill. That being the Gang leaders. The idea is that you up the pressure on the Gangs, and while you do that, from the inside, we'll work on screwing up their plans without getting detected. Then, once they're all but crippled, we take out everything at once, and amongst the chaos, take out their leaders. The rest will scatter. If not, the focus goes to them, and we make sure they topple from the weight."

The group paused. Then Kinzie nodded. "Sounds do-able. But you better have back-up plans."

This drew out a laugh. "I ALWAYS have plans, Miss Kinzie. So long as everyone can do what they need to. It may be wise for each of you to select a gang to focus upon, and go solely for that gang... Save for if you should require help."

It was decided that Dane would corner the Kingdom, keeping them from expanding. Matt would go after the Host, and mess with them and their resources. Kinzie would target the Fallen, putting their businesses on edge. Finally, Johnny would be taking on the Hellfire, and demolish them bit by bit.

"Alright. You know what to do. And remember-- The Saints always win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Actors have their parts. Next chapter, the curtains will open, and the plot will be set in motion.


	3. Hellfire and Brimstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heading back undercover, Fate must deal with Satan and his wrath all the while keeping his tracks covered, and his involvement with the Police under wraps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything, really. Only the idea.  
> (Also, this is perhaps the most active I've been with a fanfic before.)

It was hard to sneak past the men without them noticing. Then he came out of his office, as though he'd been there the entire time. The men glanced over, but looked away after a brief moment. He headed over to the doors just as an all too familiar car pulled up.

A tall man in a white suit with red shirt and black tie exited the car. His hair was a whispy, curly bundle of red on his head. He had freckles dotting his face, and piercing green eyes. Slightly red, probably from time on his private yacht. He had the expression of impatience evident on his face, and was glaring directly at Fate. Never a good sign.

"Kasyade," he greeted blandly, the words falling from his mouth venomously, anger lurking at the edge of his words.

Fate's gaze fell, head bowing. "Lord Satan." he murmured in reply. Though, the words left a bitter taste that not even thoughts of retribution could not clear.

His 'leader' strode over, looming over him immensely. He was almost a foot taller than the mechanic, and he knew. It would be evident in his stupid smirk. But since the last time he'd been beaten by the other's Lieutenants for looking at him, he decided it was best to leave his gaze focused on the ground.

"I've been hearing some nasty rumors about you from the imps, Kas. They say they saw a man in blue and gold by the station. But, for some reason, Brimstone hasn't yet returned to me." The other commented, and a cold feeling slid it's fingers over his spine. "So, I had to know... What were you doing there? And look me in the eyes when you do so."

His shoulders fell a bit, and he reached up to his helm, accessing a button by the ears that slid the white lenses away to reveal the Apatite-coloured eyes. "I was by the station to speak with the Lieutenant there. I wished to befriend him so that, should the bomb fail, he'll still be within range. And should I stay as his friend, I'll have access to him, and his location." he stated, unflinching.

That seemed to surprise him, and the taller broke into a cheerful laugh, anger bleeding away. "Smart. Always the thinker. And the watcher. Remain true to your name, and you'll have a position with the highers still. You are my ace-up-the-sleeve, so make sure to keep your eyes open. From Lucifer, to Michael, and not to mention Harod, we've few allies. Keep the police under your thumb, and you may just find yourself with a nice office."

Fate had to hide his eyes before he could glare at the other, though, his voice remained calm as he nodded. "I will continue to serve." ' _Until I can figure out how to stab you in the back, that is._ '

With that, Satan asked for a quick tune-up, which he happily gave, if only to avoid further facing him. Then, once he was out, he turned to leave. Only for a painful grip to appear on his shoulder, and with a painful pressure-point, he was down on his knees. Satan leaned in close to his ears, causing him to shudder harshly at the warm puffs.

"If I ever find out you went to the police station again, and you STILL don't have my daughter with you, your torture will be slow and agonizing."

Then he was allowed to fall to the floor, resting his head against the floor. He heard the car backing out, and then his men came to help him up, which he allowed wearily.

"B-boss.... I think you should just go back and rest in the office for a bit." One of his workers suggested, an imp who was too soft to get anywhere.

He slowly nodded, rolling his shoulder. "You can find me there if you need me."

Fate sat in his office, staring at his laptop. He finished his work, and then did up a few quotes for potential clients before he leaned back, the words still echoing.

A glove hand wrapped around his office phone- untapped. Who would try to tap a business phone anyways?- and dialed up a number which he knew would very quickly reach the top of his 'priorities' list.

"Satan wants his daughter back... Make sure he can't get to her. And, so you know, I won't be going to the station much anymore. Why? Because I'd rather remain unscathed. ...I'm fine. Been through worse. Just keep what I said in mind."

After hanging up, he slipped off his gloves and tugged off his mask, pressing his hands to his face.

"And thus, the war begins, huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Satan is a bit different than you might expect. But make no mistake, he is not someone to be scoffed at. Soon, our protagonist will reach the beginning of their struggles, and the plot will thicken.  
> (This chapter was shorter than the rest, but there wasn't much to go on about. Expect more next.)


	4. Three Identities, None Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes."  
> The bomb threat begins, along with a question of identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry I didn't get around to this as quickly as I usually do. Have been wrapped up in this. By the way, if you have any thoughts, or opinions, feel free to let me know. And this work is unbeta'd. I try to do checks, but sometimes, little things slip by. If you see something bothering you, tell me and I'll fix it up... within some limits. Lyrics/quotes may pop up when Fate is about, but very rarely.)  
> As usual, I own nothing.

" _This is the way the world ends_

 _Not with a bang but a whimper._ "

\- T. S. Elliot (The Hollow Men)

There were many things he should have been doing. Fate should have been checking on Johnny. Kasyade should have been watching. And the mechanic should have been doing the cars.

But he was tired of responsibility.

Dressing in bland colours- a white dress shirt, and a pair of beige slacks- the man who was many things returned to his roots. His true identity. He walked down to the beach from his house, and sat on a railing, watching the sun make it's final blazing trek across the sky.

Briefly, came the questioning thought ' _What if it doesn't rise again? What if this is it? ....Am I happy with who I've become?_ '

The figure couldn't answer his own thoughts. Instead, he rested his head against the rail, and considered everything. Was he content? Could he truly consider himself pleased by his legacy? Would he consider himself a role model, or a complete failure? ....He was a turncoat in every sense of the word. He turned his back on his men as the Boss. He betrayed his people in the Hellfire gang. He used the police.

No. In truth, he was ashamed. He had wanted to remain honest. He'd wanted to stay kind and polite.

It was the day that the man came to him, the one with the katana, the one who begged him to hide him away.

He had, even though he tried to betray him. And that had backfired horribly.

The man brought friends. His friends brought friends, his friends, when they changed colours, brought their own. He was caught in a gang war, all because he was too polite to close the door.

Slowly, he came to realize that the world was not kind to men like him.

So he changed his own colours.

He'd always worn his helm at his shop. An old relic of significant value, but little more than a paperweight if unused. But he took to wearing it all the time.

The first time he'd killed had been messy. He'd taken one of the artifacts within his shop, bringing it home. He'd waited until night, and tried to stab him. But the cut was messy. He screamed, and then choked and croaked, and when he finally stopped, Kent couldn't stop staring at the blood. At his lifeless, pleading eyes.

The next time, he made sure the cut was cleaner, and the death was quicker. Over time, he grew better, and then they stopped coming. Perhaps they realized that it wasn't their men abandoning them. But he made sure no one lived to identify him.

The Hellfire gang showed up, Satan asking for his men. He'd threatened that smug asshole with the very knife he'd killed his men with. The other had laughed, impressed by his gall.

He was inducted in the gang, and though he'd made a fuss at first, he was beaten into place. Still he had scars tracing his skin. Still he felt phantom stabbings in his sides, arms and hands.

They eventually took to calling him Kasyade. The Watcher. Name meaning Hidden Power. A fallen angel. He supposed it was apt enough.

He took a job at the mechanics, to hide his other identity, and there he rose up the ladders with his quick adaptations. He then became 'Boss', protector of his men, the Imps and the regulars who turned the other cheek to the gangs visiting. Good men.

He also remained Fated, ever since he'd sent the letter to Johnny Gat. Though, to a lesser degree. He anonymously tipped the police to countless ongoing things in many of the gangs, never giving a name.

Underneath it all might have been the man who'd once proudly introduced himself as 'Kent Schmidt'.

A young blond-haired, blue-eyed aspiring book-shop owner. He 'dabbled in the occult', though it was mostly Wicca and charms. Never anything darker than a 'Bad karma on that guy' kind of spell, and generally they deserved it. He was always polite, and gentle-spoken. He'd never broken a law, hadn't missed a bill-- okay, once. But that was the banks fault. But the point was that he wasn't anyone. He was too shy to aspire to become anything.

And now, here he was, waiting to see if the Lieutenant would call him about a bomb, waiting to see if Satan would find a reason to skin him, waiting for an update from his under-cover associates...

Waiting to see if he could recall who he had been.

By now, the sun began to dip down the horizon, so he headed home. He fumbled around for lights, considering the darkness that had begun to make life difficult. He dressed himself in a new costume, white shirt, silver bow-tie, black pants, and a silver helm of a similar style to his gold one, but different enough no imp could recognize him.

He headed towards the outskirts of the blast zone, and pulled out his phone.

It buzzed and he answered it.

" _Yo, Fate. We found it. There's no chance we'll disarm it in the next few minutes. You at the meet-up place?_ "

The blond adjusted his helm, sliding lenses over his eyes and looking to where to station was. "I am. I'm at the outskirts of the blast radius. I know the area around here is abandoned, so you should be fine. I'll try to keep any Imps distracted from seeing you leave."

He set up his Bluetooth earpiece so he could keep talking despite using his hands, fixing up a few gadgets he'd been tinkering with in his spare time. " _What's the plan then, boss?_ " came the joking reply in his ear.

"I set up a few toys to keep the boys busy, and I send you a GPS route to follow so you'll avoid everything and get to the car. Then we head back to a safehouse I know of and you can feel free to set up shop there." He stated, checking over them, then heading to the first deployment area and setting up a control centre.'

The first decoy was what looked to be a toddler on a tricycle. As Satan ordered his men to keep civilians out of it, they'd go to rescue the girl. Only to learn she'd suddenly pedal faster when they got too close. He set that up, and let it go before heading for the next watcher's location, putting up another animatronic in one of the houses. A women and a man with pre-recorded phrases who would have an argument that wouldn't be halted for anything. The third was a teenager who would sit on a bench and chat on her phone. Loudly. Obnoxiously loud. And she refused to look at anyone directly, so that watcher would have a difficulty. The fourth and final was a decoy that looked just like the officers who would be fleeing. So would these toys. But in the opposite direction. Those would trigger after the others, so that if the toys were found out, they'd be distracted by having what could be the real things, or fakes, running away.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

 

~

 

Johnny was glad they had moved the heavier stuff ahead of time. Only a few things needed to be moved. Still, he watched the bomb with mild concern. Dane was proving he could keep up, at least, which was his main concern. Generally people with power ended up somewhat weak, or had people do things for them. But the blond was holding his own, and even helping out where he could. They had packed the few remaining things in packs, and each carried their own.

Once they were all set, Johnny took a deep breath, then sighed. "You ready to go over there?" he asked his headset.

" _Tell me when you're exiting, as I'll have the decoys take off. You'll want to wait by the doors for the toddler to pass- It's not really, I assure you- and then head for the alley beside the green house. From there, I'll be able to throw together a route and send it to you. Then you're looking for a silver and red car. I'll meet you there once I'm certain I can head off. If I'm not there in five minutes, head off to the location I text you._  " The other drawled.

He checked the text, confirmed the address, and then hummed. Though more to himself than anyone, he would admit to himself that he liked the sound of the gentle British voice in his ear. There was something about the mysterious figure that was pretty damn attractive, and considering he was all for them taking out the gangs around, he loved the idea. Still....

_Dark hair and eyes, a bright smile and warm expression. Her hands in his, her lips against his. Her stunned expression. Her head toppling to the floor. His fault, his fault--_

"Johnny?" It was Matt, looking concerned. "We have to go."

He nodded, and grabbed his pack, heading for the door. "Alright. Let's do this." Once they were all gathered, he let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. "Hey, Fate. Do your thing."

There was a laugh, borderline sadistic, and then what looked to be a toddler pedaled on past. He quickly stopped Kinzie from going out.

The three looked to him, bewildered. "But that--" Matt began.

"Is an animatronic. It's not real." The black-haired lieutenant cut him off.

There was an audible sigh, then once it was out of sight, he opened the door and went towards the green two-story, going into the alley and crouching. A fence on the one side, a house on the other, they were out of view.

He touched the earbud, pushing it in to hear better. "Alright, we're here. What now?" he asked.

There was a ping, and he pulled out his phone. A GPS map showed them where the Imps were, where the decoys were headed, and where they should be.

He led them through to the car, and they piled in, Johnny waiting by the driver's door. When no figure showed up after five minutes, he entered and they waited another minute before driving off.

After a minute of driving, there was a blinding light behind them, and they all glanced back, watching the shock wave head out, and the plume of smoke. Felling the faint vibrations, knowing they'd made it out in the nick of time. Still, he had to worry about Fate. The other had said he would meet them. He could have gotten caught in the explosion and-- No. No, he wouldn't think of that. He'd thought of the worst scenarios too often. And knowing that the other had lasted as long as he had within the Hellfire gang, he put his doubts aside.

But the others had the looks on their faces.

' _People talking without speaking,_  
_No one dared_  
_Disturb the sound of silence_ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus it truly begins.


	5. All Around Me Are Familiar Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fate of Kent is revealed, and Johnny must decided what matters more to him. (Warning for mentions of torture, mental and physical)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I own nothing but the idea. The title is referencing the song Mad World by Gary Jules.

His body hung limply from the stock-like torture device. Matted blond hair fell into his face, and he spat out blood as best he could with his heavily swollen jaw. It didn't quite reach the expensive shoes of the torturer, but close enough he received another lash from the punisher. He wheezed as the glass sliced his skin, the cat o' nine tails easily opening both new and old wounds, adding to the bloody mess that had become his chest.

"Alright Azazel, that's good." The shadowed figure in the corner of the room sighed. Grey slacks eventually swam into view, and Lucifer, head of the Fallen, swam into his view. He was light headed, and swayed a bit as the bars holding him were raised up to a higher setting. They were still crushing his arms, though taking some pressure off his back. However they ended up leaving him on tip-toes and when his head was forced back by a hair pull, he lost his balance and slipped, jerking back, then forth. He heard a crack, and gave a gargle of pain, kicking out until he managed to get enough of a footing.

His single good gold eye glared out at the Fallen, but he refused to speak. Refused to let the blond win. He'd suffered worse. And it was his mind he was more concerned about. So long as that was strong, his body mattered little.

"Still not singing, birdy? Hm. S'ppose I may have to do some digging for something better. It's been so long since I had such a tough nut to crack, and I relish this challenge. Especially famed Lieutenant of the Hellfire. When they told me there was someone who matched your description- vaguely- in our territory, I could scarcely believe it. And you bombed the goddamn police! Good on you. But I know that you hold nothing for Satan. And you know, there was a suspicious amount of parts around the blast. Like someone had done some tinkering. So, I think you'll break a lot quicker, and betray your own. But hey, I'm going to enjoy this either way."

He turned to the door where a familiar looking blond stood, face blank, even though she could recognize the helm on the table. "Well now, Calixte, I'd like for you to take him to the white room. And then go out and look to see if you can't find where the Saints ended up."

"Hell or Heaven, it doesn't matter. I'll make sure the job is done." Vengeance swore, putting her fist to her chest, then bowing lowly. She went to Fate, pushing the bars free.

He met her gaze for a split second, then threw himself forwards into a roll. He barely got to his feet in time to heard Lucifer's calling for his guards. But Kent wasn't going to stay. No. He had plans, and they included leaving.

Well, they didn't until electricity ran through him, drawing out a cry of pain. He collapsed to the ground, seizing with the volts. He lay on his side, eyes sliding shut and head lolling. 

"The white room, Calixte, if you would."

* * *

 

When Kent awoke, he was in a somewhat familiar place. At least, he was familiar with the concept. The room, made completely white, represented isolation. For days, the subject would be left alone, given food through a slot in the door while they slept. It was intended to break the mind.

The blond dragged himself to the bed, flopping down and covering his eyes. His blue contacts had been taken, which left his gold eyes bare. Well, eye. The other was a swollen mess from the beatings and torture. He had been bandaged, though. Probably to limit color. Still, he pried off some of the gauze and collected some of the blood there to write on the wall just out of sight 'Johnny'. That would make sense, even later. Remember the man, remember the mission, remember the promise.

He could make it. He had to. Because if he didn't... Everything he had built would crumble.

~

They had moved into the safe house, which was a house on the edge of town by a beach. Johnny had found the Gold helm there, contacts in nearly every colour, hair dyes (With a cutesy reminder that said 'Be a tree and don't forget your roots hun!' written in Fate's hand, though it was probably for him considering no one else lived there.

His room was sparse, besides history books and books on things ranging from magic to archeology to cooking and romance novels. The only one without dust was a well worn bible with a page marked towards the back. He checked, finding a picture of a smiling man and woman, a circled paragraph, and an award given to a 'Charles Schmidt'.

The version was unfamiliar, and had a quote that read "The love of one to another keeps the beast at bay. Whomever you shall love will be both sword and shield for protecting you from dark influences." The author was cited as 'Husband', and a quick glance to the from revealed it was written by an 'Anne Schmidt', published post-humorously by her husband, Charles. It seemed these two people meant a lot to Fate, but didn't seem present in his life.

At least, not anymore. Dane made his way over, frowning. "I've gotten word from Vengeance. The Fallen have Fated." he said to the other.

Johnny frowned. "Is she sure?" he demanded. They had to be certain, otherwise they were shooting from the hip, hoping to God they hit.

"Yeah. She said he had a silver helm like Fate's, had a similar voice, Lucifer identified him, and despite having been tortured, attempted a breakout... Unless you know someone else who has the notoriety and will to do that, you're probably looking in a mirror if not Fate."

Johnny raised a finger. "Hold on. How do you know him so well?" he asked, brows furrowed.

Dane rolled his eyes. "Unlike some people, I do my research. His track list has involved gunning down people from blocks away, parachuting from high buildings, driving the wrong way on highways, beating people to death with his bare hands, putting bombs in cars... You name it, he's probably been said to have done it." The blond offered a folder. "Read that."

Johnny took it, flipping through. His brows raised, then he slowly nodded. "Well, that's interesting." he decided to say.

"Interesting? Lieutenant, did you even read it?" His voice almost sounded shrill, incredulous.

"Yeah, I read it over. It's impressive he did all this shit and didn't end up dead." At the almost disgusted look, Gat rolled his eyes. "Look, he's on our side. At the moment, it doesn't matter what he did. Besides, we can deal with that later." he dismissed.

The businessman sighed heavily. "Alright. Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you... But still, he's in the hands of the Fallen now. We'll have to move forward without him."

The police officer rose a brow, grinning. Dane felt his stomach drop. It was never good for Gat to smile without a reason.

"Whoever said that?"


	6. This Is How We Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several days after Kent was captured, the rescue begins. The question is, what will they find in the white room? And what has become of Brimstone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you can't tell by now, I own nothing by the ideas.

It had taken awhile to gather their supplies, but Gat was ready, he was certain. He had the arms and ammunition, the plans, the goals and the men. It was decided that they would take out the Fallen now. They would move into the first stages, and bring them to their knees.

Armed and loaded, they drove to the warehouse Vengeance had said they were keeping Fate at. They headed in a back entrance, taking out the guards.

Dane cringed as he stepped over a body, but followed nonetheless, keeping a very tight grip on his briefcase and gun. He had surprised Gat when he requested to join them, but Johnny wouldn't say 'no' to an able body.

With Kinzie disabling the cameras, they moved ever further into the belly of the beast.

* * *

The snapping of bones and the harsh panting of breath were the only sounds that filled the hallway. The heavy footsteps approaching the location. The first on the scene were stunned by the amount of blood, and thus unable to fight back when they were suddenly attacked.

An assault rifle was liberated from a still twitching hand and bare feet splashed in the puddle left behind from the slit throat. The gun was aimed and fired a quick burst at the second who was trying to get up. No more movement. No life left.

The figure continued down the hall, gripping the gun like a lifeline. He turned a corner and took out two more men. Then he slammed his fist into the door control. The figure strode forwards, uncaring of whatever alarms had begun to blare.

He had a score to settle. And a Fate to fulfill. 

* * *

Red lights blared, and the Lieutenant tapped his comm. "Kinz, Matt, I though you said we were clear?" he snapped in irritation. They said everything was fine. "There are alarms and lights blaring like hell. Not that I don't mind not having to sneak around, but..."

"It isn't you. There was a breach.... A prisoner... Someone very important broke out. Seeing if I can't find out who, or what." Matt chimed in. But there wasn't much need. There were gunshots around the corner before sudden silence. They stopped at the edge before Gat jumped out, pointing his gun.

The blood-soaked blond looked like he came from a horror film. White clothing was splattered with the crimson life-source. His teeth were stained alongside his chin and jaw and down his throat. His hair was wild, and gold eyes flashed maniacally in the light. He aimed his gun at them, then scoffed. The raspy british voice was irritable as he growled his statement.

"Took you fucking long enough." he snapped, then strode past. He kicked open a door, shooting up the room before entering. He exited shortly after, buttoning his shirt, helm in place. Fate was back in the place of the insane-looking prisoner. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go murder the fucker who thought it would be fun to shove me in a room and leave me alone there." That said, he stomped off and the barrage of bullets followed him.

Looking to his shocked team, Gat jerked his head after the man. "Well? What'cha waitin' for? After him!" He legged after, quickly catching up due to his fight. He covered the other's back, who grunted something that could have been a thank you, but probably was more of a 'I accept your existence only because you haven't pissed me off yet' sound.

Fate left no survivors, took no prisoners, and gave no mercy. And when they finally made it to Lucifer's office, he threw down his gun and charged forwards. He tossed the guards as if they were sacks of potatoes, and didn't look to see if they lived or not. He just charged up to the suited man, lifting him by the throat and bringing him through a table. He straddled him to beat him.

Finally, he grabbed his face. "This is why you don't fuck with me." he hissed, then wrenched his neck, severing the spinal cord with his fury. Breathing hard, he remained like this as the rest of the group filed in. The guards, incapacitated, were taken out. The man slowly rose when he had pieced together his sanity.

"I must apologize for my behavior.... I hadn't intended to get so... violent." he wheezed, a bit out of breath after everything. He turned, looking to the officer in charge.

Johnny just shook his head. "As long as you ain't killin' my men, I haven't got much of a problem.... Matt, Kinzie, we're ready to roll. The Fallen are crippled, and we got our man back. We'll make sure to take out their shit later." He told them, but a gloved have touched his arm and a helmed head shook. "...Scratch that. Tonight, we end 'em. ...You ready to go?" he directed that at Fate.

The gang member tilted his head back, then left the room without a word. He rejoined them as they left, entering the car and sitting in the back, holding a tablet. "The Morningstar's Fallen operate in several main groups. Their largest locations are the Aviary, an underground prostitution and drug ring, and The Pits, which is their money laundering tower. Both of which are about six blocks from here as well as each other."

"Six six six. How witty." Dane rolled his eyes, opening the briefcase. Within was a laptop with a connection to the base. He pulled up skype, and the two hackers popped up in the view screen. Then a third head, a young woman's, followed.

"You're going to have some issues getting in. Though their tech is similar to the Hellfire, it's a tough nut to crack, even with Brimstone's help." Matt explained, pulling up a map for which to use as a GPS. "We'll be mostly blind in there."

Fate hummed lowly, which resounded in his helm. "Try patching through connection route AA23 with password Alpha-Delta Seven Seven." he suggested. A few clicks and there was a green light reflecting in Kinzie's glasses. When the others looked over, he shook his head. "I have gotten out of tougher locations, as you just saw." he pointed out.

"How did you get out anyways?" Allison asked, frowning with furrowed brows over her shaded gaze. "You seemed to have busted out fine on your own. Why wait?"

The blond rubbed at the peeling blood around his neck, huffing. "Well, for one, I needed to find out their plans and learn what I could that they knew. And secondly, I was rather weak. I needed to build up strength and what not. To go in unprepared would be stupid. Which is also why I grabbed this. The tablet has everything we need. It has floor plans, locations, prisoner numbers, stats for how many guards are inside, pass codes and such." He offered it to Allison, slumping over a bit.

Dane suddenly lurched over, pressing a hand to the other's abdomen where a wet splotch was developing around a small hole. "You were shot? When?" he demanded. The other didn't seem to reply, so the other cursed, looking up. "We need to get him to a hospital. Drop him off, so that--"

"We finish this first." Was the sole protest. The man dragged himself up, then slid the white lenses back so he could bore his hawk-like gaze into the Lieutenant's own hidden eyes through the mirror. "Keep driving. We're almost there. I'll be fine... Just get us there."

So against their wishes, he accompanied them. With the tablet, they got in fine. With silenced weapons, they took out the guards and any who stood in their way. They freed the women and men in the holding cells, before moving on. They checked all the rooms, gathering any illegal things they could, then headed back to the car.

A repeat of the second, but when they finished opening the cells, Fate collapsed. Gat had to carry him back to the car while Dane and Allison finished up. The smaller male leaned against him, helmet discarded so it could be discerned whether he was awake or not.

"...You know... At first, I wasn't sure about you." he murmured, somewhat delirious. "I thought, for the longest time, I would have to go it alone. ...But when you stood up for me, back when we met the second time... I could tell you had the balls to do this. ...You were the kinda guy who could walk up the devil himself and punch him in the face and you wouldn't care... That was pretty amazing... to find someone... Who was like me, in that sense."

He tried to stop him from continuing- he probably shouldn't strain himself, or some shit like that, but the other waved him off- "...As Kent Schmidt... I never really stood out. But as Fate... I became a legend. Just like how you are to the underground.... I think I look up to you for that." His eyes were lidded, and he was beginning to pass out. Johnny cursed, putting more pressure on the wound, illiciting a hiked gasp.

"Shut it, boss. You and me can have a heart to heart like this is a chick flick later. For now, you need to keep your eyes open. There are still more asses to kick, and I sure as hell ain't doin' your work for you." It was somewhat half hearted. He found himself checking out the window for the others. Relief hit him when he spotted them, only to grow cold when he realized the body in his arms had grown limp. He checked for a pulse.

Nothing.


	7. Flatline/Kick Start My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate is dead, and Johnny can't believe it. There's no way he would just give up.  
> Desperate times call for desperate measures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own anything but the ideas.  
> Yes, I purposely didn't update for awhile solely to add to the atmosphere.

CPR was useless. Mouth to mouth similarly so. Johnny couldn't find a way to bring back the heartbeat that once resided in the figure. He covered the wounds and leapt into the front. The others quickly got in, looking confusedly to him, then with worry to the back.

"Is he-- Shit, he doesn't have a pulse. He's not breathing." Allison cursed as she set him up to a better spot. She turned her gaze to the Lieutenant. "Drive." she commanded, and he did as she set herself to covering up any wound. She adjusted him so he would be able to breath easier. Then she leaned down for mouth to mouth, performing chest compressions. She ignored the police officer telling her it was useless, rubbing his arms and prominent blood vessels to promote blood flow. Taking off her sunglasses and setting them aside as she grabbed a nearby flashlight, she opened his eyes, shining it. She let out a slight huff.

Clutching the wheel, Gat inhaled through the gaps in his teeth, driving towards the nearest hospital and hoping to whatever deities there were that the blond wasn't dead. Some part of him hurt, considering he had just met the true face behind the mask.

Suddenly, there was a gasp, and a choke. " _Fuck_." Then the figure in the back forced themselves up, and Kent was alive. Johnny relaxed a bit with a sigh. For a moment. Then he noticed a roadblock ahead. They barely had time to swerve, the two gang members in the back being slammed around, resulting in quite a few curses being thrown out. Fate was the first one out, drawing his gun.

The Fallen at the block raised their weapons, and realizing his lack of ammo, Kent barely dodged out of the way, still groggy from having been brought back to life. The others got out, shooting wildly into the fray before rushing for cover. Kinzie found herself beside the proven crazy man, who looked to her. "I understand we just killed their boss, but I don't understand who assembled them so quickly. Who's leading them?" He asked, but got no answer from the officer.

"Give us the Hellfire member, and we will let you pass unharmed, Saints." A cold, crisp voice intoned. Kent cursed, then got down to army crawl to a nearby hiding place. "I repeat, give us Lieutenant Fate of the Hellfire gang, and we will allow you save passage."

"There's no way we're makin' a trade like that." Gat stated in the comm. "We'd have to be stupid to give them what they want. And they only have the one base left. They're down to their last chance, and they'll kill us if we give him up." His tone said 'no arguments', but no one cared much.

"Johnny, we have to think pragmatically. They are offering us the chance to go free. Prepare better. For Fate. He got out the first time, he can get out again. Better yet, unleash him in the middle of them." Dane's voice pointed out.

It didn't quite matter, because Fate was already ahead of the game. He was off in a sprint, keeping low. The bullets fired at him generally hit the obstacles he hid behind. It was kind of amazing he could do that after dying. Then again, it had only been a few moments and he was now using adrenaline to keep himself going. The blond leapt the final barrier, leaping into the crowd. That was when the true bloodshed began.

The man he landed on was kicked down after Fate gained his feet, head stomped in. He grabbed the nearest person, using them as a shield. He took the gun from the woman, firing at those gathered. He took a shot to the shoulder and in return killed his captive. Throwing down the gun, he staggered into another hit, this one to the knee. He didn't care, rushing forwards. He leapt on the larger male, cradling his head before jerking it savagely to the side. He pushed off, flipping through the air and landing in a crouch over a body. He quickly snatched a gun off it, rolling to the side and shooting. Two shots to the head, followed by three into the last man's torso. Slowly standing, swaying, he searched the bodies. Any who were left alive after the slaughter quickly found their end.

Limping back, he let out a wheezing cough, rubbing the now heavily bleeding side. He stared them down, lenses hiding his eyes. "We finish this." He repeated. And this time despite the fact it seemed best to bring him to a hospital, let alone a psych ward, they listened and drove to the final location. He went along, if once because he wasn't trusted to go alone. He followed slowly, taking out people from afar when needed.

They ended up clearing out most of them, and then called in a team of experts from the station to check the drugs.

Kent dragged himself to the roof, grabbing a few chemicals with him. Worriedly, Gat followed. "What are you doing?" He asked. The shorter shook his head with no answer for him. He finished the mixture, then lit it. It burst into a purple flame. Then he took off his glove, dropping something into it. Within seconds, a small debris shot up into the air and exploded with the same purple. This lingered for a bit, then faded. "What was that?"

"A sign. A sign that the Saints have taken the Fallen, and that the others will be next to fall." He stated, slowly sitting down, holding his side. "...Perhaps... You should call that ambulance now." He added. The white of his shirt was quickly turning red. Wounds from earlier, new or half-healed, had torn open during the fights. It evidently was taking a lot to keep him alive. But it also took a lot to keep him dead. "You know, if everything were different... I think I would call you a friend."

Gat slowly walked over and sat down, tapping his comm twice to send out a call to 911. He took the offered hand, lifting it and running his fingers over the pulse. The man managed to sit up, leaning against Johnny with a quiet sigh. "...I never got to apologize. And not for being reckless. ...There's blood on my hands, and I know at the end of this, if I'm still alive... I will go to prison. But I accept the consequences. If I go down, I'm taking them will me, personally. No. I'm sorry I couldn't help you before. With Aisha. And you can blame yourself. You can blame Shogo. But in truth, I could have stopped him first. I could have turned him in. I could have stopped him from leaving. I could have killed him. But I didn't. And I knew that. It was always my fault." he stared off into space.

"Hey, no. Don't pull any a' that 'I'm to blame' shit on me. You can thank me for my help. You can look up to me for bein' who I am. You can doubt me, or believe me. But this... No. I know that she's gone, and there are numerous reasons for that. But it isn't your fault. You may hide behind that tin can a' yours, but as Kent... You aren't a feared legend. You're human. You forget things, like your roots. You wear contacts to hide yourself, to blend in. You do whatever you need to when you're desperate. But you don't risk other people. You go in swingin', but you plan to go down alone. You make plans on top of plans so when shit goes south, you have an idea of what to do. You bleed. You cry. You mourn, and rejoice, and you fuckin' laugh. But you make mistakes. You ain't perfect, that's for damn sure. But you can't put this on yourself. It wasn't your fault, or your mistake... So don't. Don't give me that shit. Got it?"

The blond weakly laughed, shaking his head, and covering his face. For a moment, the stiff exterior melted away. The aloofness was gone as a shoulders relaxed and the man settled. Then, turning back with gentle gold gaze, it was Kent, not Fate, who spoke. "I blame myself for a lot of stuff. ...My mother died in childbirth due to a complication of mine. It was her choice. Save her, or me. And she chose me. My father. Getting the stupid tin can... He brought me along. And when the place collapsed, he pushed me to safety instead of saving himself. The men I killed were looking for a place to stay. Some of them were just kids. Drug peddlers. I didn't care. The gang members who bled out on the porch because I wouldn't open the door for them. The innocents I ratted out. The Imps I didn't protect. The families broken apart. I leave a trail behind me, Lieutenant. Not a pretty one. Look down there. Those people could have been non-lethally handled. Lucifer is too dead to bail them out. But I killed them. I knew one of them. Knew his wife. We ran neighboring shops. I knew that as I ripped out his throat. With my teeth. I am not a man. I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you keep trying to justify me. Give up. I'm not worth saving." He almost was pleading, shaking his head at the other man.

Gat slowly got up, walking to a corpse on the roof and taking off it's shirt. He returned to Kent, pulling it on. "That will buy us some time." He settled behind him, pulling him into a hug, holding him tight. "Keep pressure on whatever I'm not. Got it? ...I don't care what you've done, because it's what you're doing to make up for it that counts. We'll work past this. And when we do, I want to talk to Kent. The real one. The one who saved the police, tried to save Aisha. Who ran a bookshop, and was too damn nice for his own good."

Leaning back cautiously, the figure stilled. Then slowly nodded. "...If he's under there when this is all over... We'll talk as long as you want." It was a promise. One Johnny planned to keep.

"Good. I know he will be, so I'll hold you to it." He smiled faintly, then cleared his throat. "...Why don't you tell me about it? The shop? We'll be here a bit longer. We want to keep you awake, right? ...So...?"

Slowly taking in and letting out a deep breath in the form of a sigh, the blond nodded. "Okay.... Well..." And slowly, he began to describe it. The books, and their smell. The aroma of herbs and flowers he used to make the herbal teas and ointments, candles and incense. He detailed the artifacts, the swords on the wall, the spear leaning against a mannequin that wore fabrics that had been important that he had been meaning to make into a suit. Of the spell book he used for 'magic', doing minor curses, but mostly spells of healing and the sort. He continued talking until the ambulance was there. And then he relaxed against Gat. "...Don't ever change. There's a gentle heart under that hard exterior... Wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

And he promised. Just as Schmidt promised him. They would get through this and have that chat. He nodded to the gang member as he was loaded onto the stretcher and put in the ambulance.

"See you soon, Kent. We'll finish this. I swear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caught a massive mistake. If I see it again, I'll make sure to fix it.


	8. Pain is Ready, Pain is Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been at least a week, and Fate is ready to go out. The team has their doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is owned by me but the ideas. Unbeta'd

Everyone had been anxiously waiting in Fate's house. For now, it served as a better headquarters than any other location. Fate had pushed for them to move elsewhere, but eventually folded and allowed them to stay, at least until he recovered.

The door swung open, and the familiar helmed visage came into view. He wasn't expected home for another few days, having been recovering from numerous wounds and lacerations. It was due to this that Dane shot him a pointed look. "Aren't you supposed to be resting? I know you like to act like you're more than human, but even Gat needs to take some time off after getting shot."

The other shook his head, heading towards the basement. "I have to keep in shape. Beyond that, I am actually still expected to do my job." he retorted, heading downstairs. He passed by where Kinzie was stationed who frowned. As though sensing this, he glanced back. "Not you too. I'm not explaining myself to everyone who asks what I'm doing. You aren't anyone to me but allies. That's it. And I will do what I believe is right for me." He stated, changing rooms to where a mini gym was set up. Weights, punching bags, and even a set of monkey bars had been set up.

The first thing he did was take off the blue shirt, revealing his still-bandaged chest. He could hear them moving behind him, talking in low tones, but blocked them out as he launched himself with a fury at the sand-filled bag.

Gat looked to Kinzie as they listened to the attack next to them. "There is no way that's healthy in any sense of the word. Look at him! He's still bandaged. You can even see some stitches. Johnny, you have to get him to rest. He listens to you. And if not, you can keep him from taking a swing at you."

"Alright, alright. I'll go talk to him." He headed over to where Schmidt was, leaning against the wall. "Hey!" He called. The force of the hit lessened, but continued. "You should be restin'. You're not gonna be one hundred percent if ya reopen your wounds, or worse, ya break somethin'."

Kent turned, kicking clean through the sandbag. "That was me taking it easy. Surprisingly, I'm not that blond. I get that you lot are concerned for me, but for right now, pretend I'm not human." he retorted, getting a new sandbag to hang in another spot so he wouldn't trip on sand. Voice dropping to a lower British drawl, he added over his shoulder "And if you try to restrain me, I'll consider it an open invitation to hand to hand combat." he hissed.

Johnny backed out of the room. "That's a no go." he told the group. "Try pretendin' that you're tryin' to talk to me. It works a lot better. Even still, he's gonna do this. He is takin' it easy, apparently, so there's that at least. Let's just let 'im work it off for now." They glanced into the room, but headed out.

Kent finally stopped when the last left. He took off the helm, setting it aside. He took a deep breath as he began punching the bag.  _"I wonder, what would your son think of this? Hn? What do you think, boy?"_ _"Leave him alone! He had nothing to do with this--" "Hush, Schmidt. I was talking to your son. Kent? What do you think? ...Nothing to say? ....Well, I suppose that's fitting. Even your boy knows not to anger me. And yet you... Well, what will I do with you?" "D-don't hurt my father!" "Ha! Silly boy. If I don't, what kind of example will be made? They'll think traitors can get away with anything."_ **BANG**. His fist had gone through the material. He rested his forehead against the leaking sandbag. He backed away, grabbing blindly for the metal, tugging it over his head.

Heading upstairs, he headed for the living room. He opened a cabinet, taking out a shelf of crystal wine glasses. He then pressed a switch, stepping back as the whole cabinet swung out, revealing a huge collection of guns. He set them out on the table, closing the cabinet. He looked over to the group, setting hands on either side of the table. "I have more, but this is the biggest stash. There are ten guns here. A total of twenty two are in this house. So guns aren't an issue. I also have several weapons for close combat. I've already gotten information that Hellfire and the Host are moving into the empty territory left by the Fallen. Normally, I'd leave it be. But I marked that section as being taken, so they should know better. I'm waiting two days to heal a bit more and see if they recognize our control. If they don't, I'm going in and taking them out."

He then pulled down a map from behind a painting, rolling it out and using a pair of hand grenades to hold it open. "The Kingdom sent word that they acknowledge our ownership of the territory. We won't have to worry about them, I've been assured. Vengeance has been monitoring the Fallen. Thus far, no one has come out of hiding. Beyond that, though, our true concern is this." He tapped a location on the map. "An unknown force is growing here. Reports suggest it may be SWAT. That means aggression between and within gangs will be heightened. The current reasoning is that after the bombing and sudden attacks on the three buildings, the mayor called in the SWAT to make sure everything is alright. He's somewhat neutral, but has a significant leaning towards Hellfire and Fallen. With the Fallen gone, he'll give the Hellfire more of an ear. But he'll also be more open towards another party. Particularly us, due to our taking out the Fallen. Use this information as you will." He told them.

Going up to the attic, he decided to hide out there, knowing full well the Lieutenant was using his room. He already had a little set-up waiting for him, and he was able to lay down and pass out without much issue, dreaming of gunshots and crying.

* * *

Two days. They were ready now. Kinzie had demanded Kent stay behind, but he had insisted, and pointed out that majority of his wounds had healed or sealed by then. He also had splurged on not one, but two large medkits which ended up in the trunk beside the gun cases. Each had been cleaned, taken apart, and loaded with all the ammo it could hold. A few swords and machetes had been brought along, along with a baseball bat with nails on it and an oversized dildo. When inquired about it, Schmidt had shrugged, mumbling something about errands.

They entered the No Man's Land, both sides trying to take potshots at them. Unfortunately, this happened to be the car of a police team who were used to being shot at, and a gang member who worked on cars specifically to make sure they would be bullet proof. Matt made some joke about rolling the windows down, but was shot down by everyone. Instead, they focused on making it to a nearby strip joint. One of the undercover officers, Pierce, owed Fate a favor. So, the ex-hellfire member cashed in that favor, getting him to prepare a place for them. They set up their stuff, then headed out. Fate snuck into the Host's location, taking them out while the team took out the Hellfire.

Fate was the first out of the trenches, silver helm gleaming in the low light. He stopped in the open, waiting. When the group showed up, he pulled a gun out of a side holster, shooting it into the sky. A purple flare. "In case they didn't get it the first time." he informed, then looked over to where people in black were moving in. "Shit."

The SWAT team swarmed him, guns pointed at him. "Fate, also known as Kasyade, also known as Boss, also known as Kent Schmidt. You are under arrest for several hundred counts of homicide, battery, and destruction of property. Three counts of vandalism, four counts of armed robbery, twelve counts of possessing and selling illegal goods, owning illegal weaponry, violating probation, assisting known criminals, being accessory to murder, robbery, theft.... I think you get the idea. Put down your weapons and come quietly." And to the surprise of the Saints, he did, disarming himself and lifting his hands in the air.

As they took off the helm, though, it wasn't Kent underneath the silver artifact. It was a flustered teenager. Justice of the Heavenly Host. "Sorry, sir." he cringed. "I mean, I'm sorry I'm not who you're looking for. He's gone by now." he explained. He looked to Johnny. "He said he knew you guys would be here, so once he got rid of the host he gave me this outfit and took off. Not sure where he went."

The officer cursed, then turned on the Lieutenant. "You've been aiding a known criminal, you know that right? He's killed people. And worse! How do you justify that?" he demanded.

"Well, to be honest sir, he's only gone after gang members, so I saw it as a necessary evil. With his help, we took out the Fallen for good, and we also saved everyone surrounding the bomb site. So I've seen it as a necessary evil, and one I wouldn't take lightly." he stated. He had done some digging anyways. He knew that there were countless 'tips' dropped to the police about gang members. Ones that usually ended up dead. "Plus, if people like us did our jobs properly, he wouldn't have had to do this anyways." The officer stated, arms folding over his chest.

When the team left, a nearby manhole cover popped up and slid aside, and the gold-helmed Fate looked a bit worse for wear, but climbed out and dusted off his hands. "Thanks, Justice." he told him, putting it back in place. "We were being followed. And I do intend on turning myself in after all of this, but not quite yet." He stated, glancing to Gat. He pulled something from his pocket. A USB. "This is information from the Kingdom on the Host. Along with Justice's information, we should be able to target them next. No need for inside jobs either."

Justice high-fived him, grinning. "I am so down for this! Feel free to give me a ring when you're ready to go!" He shoved his hands in his pockets as he headed off, humming some song to himself.

Kent decided to remain behind with Johnny to make sure they didn't make an attempt on the territory again. They headed back to the Hotel, finding it the best place to hold down. He stripped off his shirt, ignoring the Lieutenant, checking on his wounds. His skin was littered with scars. The worst of which was a blast right on his shoulder. When he noticed the other's gaze settled on that spot, he sighed.

"My father worked for Satan when I was only twelve. He used to be an archaeologist, an antiquities dealer. But eventually, his money ran out. So he turned to the gangs to pay for food, electricity and water. One day, he was caught trying to sell illegal substances. He betrayed Satan to a dirty cop. I was shot at, here, to make him suffer. He was killed. I did manage to run away. I Illegally forged documents to get money from the government until I was sixteen, when I got a job as a waiter in a night club." He traced several different scars. "I got to college." Two more. "Then I opened a shop." More tracing. Still not everything. He gestured in general. "I took in various gang members." He traced a few more. "These were from mechanic accidents. Like a car falling on me."

Johnny reached out to trace over a particular one. From a sword. "Shogo." It wasn't a question, but Kent nodded anyways. "When he found out you betrayed him to me." Another nod. "I'm sorry--" but he was cut off, the other turning towards him.

"In one way or another, I have earned these scars, Lieutenant. They tell of my life. Of my failures and my mistakes. And I accept that. I accept I will forever be reminded of what I have done or failed to do. So don't apologize." He took the hand, pressing it to where his heart was. "This. This is what matters." He tapped Johnny's own. "It reminds us of who we are. Who we have been. And any of this-" a gesture to the scars "-doesn't matter. Because our body is a canvas for our life, but it's our heart that records what's truly important. For you, that's Aisha. For me, my father."

Gat felt a faint smile managing to crack through. The other withdrew, heading off to where the two cots were set up. He sat on his own, leaning back against the wall. "Fate. The so called path our life will take. Whether intentional or not, ours have crossed. That will stay with us. We can remember it here," He traced a scar, then tapped his chest. "Or here. But we will always know it happened. How we spend our time together is the true deciding factor. So we could argue about how I'm a monster or not. How I should rest more. Or we could talk. Learn about each other. And I think... I think we gain more from friends than allies." he offered softly.

Looking over at him, the officer slipped off his sunglasses. "...Okay. Well, let's talk then."

Before they could, though, there was a flashing light. Johnny put his sunglasses on, heading to the computer. A skype notification. He answered the call as it came. " _Gat, Fate, we have a problem. Satan's coming for you._ "


	9. The Devil's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan arrives. What happens next, though, isn't what was expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. I lost inspiration, then lost my work, then forgot about this, and then got busy. Ugh. Anyway, here's kinda a filler? FINALLY THE THING. Or, a thing.

"Get out."

Gat looked over to the blond, frowning. "Wha-" but he was cut off, dragged to his feet and shoved out the door. "Out." He took off his helm, shoving it into his hands and rushing back in. He rifled through the drawers, barely managing to get on and button up a shirt before the door was brought off it's hinges with a good kick. Kent froze as the head of the gang he had served and betrayed strolled in, imps swarming around him.

He lifted a gun and pointed it at Kent's head. "Any last words?" he asked, smirk drawn over his face.

* * *

Gat had rushed out, hiding down the hall. He had seen the force entering the room, and felt a jolt of worry. At first, it confused him. Why would he be worried about Fate? He had proven himself stronger in every contest of wills he had seen him partake in.

He quickly realized what it was. The humanity. He had seen the spark of it before he had left. The concern. Directed at him. It always had been. It was hard to tell, but he noticed a difference in the body language. The few times he had been around Schmidt where there was a threat, he had been agitated. But when the threat was gone, he relaxed. When he wasn't around, he didn't care about danger. He always sought to make himself the bigger target. Always had that look.

Maybe it was the guilt. Not trying harder to have him save Aisha. But he recognized it now. There was definitely something there in his eyes, and it was directed at him. The only question was what?

He didn't have time to think further. He had to find out what was happening. He headed over, leaning against the door, listening in.

* * *

 "The funniest part about this," Kent stated, hands behind his head as he looked up to Satan from his kneeling position, "is the fact that you so strongly believed all these years that you were controlling me." He stood up as the imps guns swung to point at the devil. Stepping back, he smiled bitterly as a familiar face stepped out from the adjoining room.

"Jezebel?" Satan wheezed, as though struck. The woman, Jezebel, codename Brimstone, folded her arms over her chest. "But... They captured you! I came here for you!"

Shaking her head, she sighed. "Sorry, daddy. I never wanted to be a gang leader. In fact, I wanted to be a singer. But with you as my father, I could never do that. So I arranged with the police to have me taken to a safe house. And when Kasyade here came to see me, offering to help me put you away for good if I stepped up to the leadership role... Well, how could I say no? So, I played the role of shadow leader, taking your men from you. We earned their loyalty and offered them an easy out. No bloodshed, decent pay... Protection. The Hellfire gang is done. You're done. Goodbye father."

The imps led him to where the police were waiting. They cuffed him, putting him in the back of the cruiser. "I promise you, Jez, that I will come back, and there will be hell to pay." he vowed.

"Oh, that would be true... if we didn't have the evidence of your hand in murdering at least five individuals. There are cameras in the shop, and all of the recordings were sent ahead of time to the judge as evidence. There will be no parole. There will be no getting out of it. You'll get life, at least." Kasyade all but purred, accent heavy with the smugness.

As they waved him off, Jezebel smiled up at her hero, wrapping arms around his neck and yanking him up into a hug. The shorter laughed, patting her back. "Thank you! I'll have to find a way to repay you!"

Kent's eyes got a glimmer. "How about your first CD?" he queried, quirking a brow. At the face she jokingly pulled, he snorted. "Too much? Alright. I suppose I'll settle for a thank you."

Johnny had entered and was staring at him. He had the look of someone who had realized something and needed answers. He patted Jezebel's shoulder. "Stay out of trouble." he murmured, then headed over to the Lieutenant with a terse smile. "You look like you need a talk. Or a drink. Luckily, we can do both."

"What are your feelin's for me?"

Kent stared, eyebrows slowly raising, and jaw falling open slightly, in a bewildered gawk. "Uhhh?" He began intelligently, tilting his head. "What do you-"

"Cut the crap. Tell me, seriously, that you are solely interested in taking out the gangs. That this isn't anything more. That you aren't interested in me." Gat stated, pointing at his chest.

Holding up his hands, his eyes got wider. It was somewhat satisfying for Gat to see the change in emotion. The flicker of panic was there, though, however brief. Worry. About him finding out the truth? "I-I'm not? Why would I be? What's this even about?" he retorted, pushing away the finger.

Johnny glared. "Learn to lie with some feelin'. From the deep talks, the 'real you', and the way you act around me.... This is more than just gettin' the gangs, isn't it?" he demanded to know. He had to know.

Kent backed up, Gat following until he fell back. Scrambling a bit, he shook his head. "N-no I-" he was shut up by the hands wrapping in the fabric of his shirt, lifting him high off the ground. He kicked out, grabbing at the hands. But he didn't put effort into it. Gat knew he wouldn't. He needed to be confronted. Needed to have no other options. He had felt the same with Aisha's death. He had needed someone to force him to face the truth.

"It was guilt at first. About Aisha. Then you began to genuinely care, and you couldn't have that, because it would fuck up your other plans. When you found you could finally help me, without bein' in the shadows, you couldn't jump quicker to your feet. But you got too close, in too deep. You fell hard and you didn't know how to cope as Fate. Because Fate ain't like that. So you had to be Kent as well. Had to be able to express yourself in some other way. Didn't realize it until now, did ya?"

 There was a pause, and then the emotions vanished. The blond freed himself with the right pressure point, dropping to his feet. "Incorrect for the most part, but fairly close." he admitted. "I was guilty. And I did start to care. But I knew I couldn't be with you no matter who I was. I'm a killer, a murderer, I'm a gang member- even if it was previous employment. I was interested in helping you, but it was more your aid in taking down the gangs... allowing me to live without requiring the helm. I didn't quite fall for you. There is attraction, but... Not love. Fate has no desires, that is fairly correct. I didn't 'have to be Kent as well'. I chose to reveal my humanity to gain your trust. So that I had someone to fall back on when needed." he replied, tone flat and devoid of emotions.

The blond slipped free, patting his arm. "Don't worry about my feelings, Lieutenant. This is about duty. Responsibility. A need to cleanse the blood from my hand. ...Maybe, in another life, we could have--" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. Either way, I will only have professional feelings for you. I cannot-"

"Can't what? Can't put your heart on the line? Can't stand fallin' for someone who represents somethin' better, greater, than you? You said we'd talk. I want answers."

His head lolled a bit, gaze on the floor. "...I did." He agreed, sighing. He took a moment, perhaps for composure, then cleared his throat to speak. "...No, I can't. I can't put my heart out there to be broken. I can't love someone like you. You're.... too good. For me. You remind me of what I'm trying to protect. What I want to save. And I don't want to risk entangling you in my life. It's... difficult. It's painful. Nothing happy comes from it." His eyes almost seemed hollow. The feelings had drained from his expression, leaving him blank-faced.

Johnny let go, taking a slight step back. Then, without warning, the other moved forwards; pulling him into a hug that was nearly bone-breaking. The other was shaking. Crying. Unexpected, but he could deal with that. He scooped up the shorter, carrying him to the bed and sitting on it, keeping the other on his lap. He just held the figure close, and came to the conclusion he was dealing with Kent. Not Fate, not Kasyade... Kent. He ran a hand through the slightly matted locks of hair. He was rather messed up. That would have to be fixed before they continued. But first, he needed this.

It took awhile for the other to recover. Then, voice soft and cracking against the weight of the world held on his shoulders, the young man spoke against his shirt. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me, caring for me, being nice to me?"

Gat held him until he finally drifted off, and then pressed a gentle kiss to his crown. "There ain't many opportunities to save everyone... But I have a chance, and I sure as hell don't plan on passin' it up." he murmured.

Then, even quieter, only for himself. "An' maybe because you ain't the only one who feels too broken to love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that is somewhat satisfactory. I have a cold atm, so if it needs to be corrected, I will do so when I'm a bit better.  
> Expect more soon.


	10. Finish What You Started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only two gangs remain. And the Saints intend to end this.

They had made the plans. Justice was ready and in position, as was Destiny. Both were in position to betray.

Under the cover of dusk, Fate and the Saints entered the main base of the Host. To their surprise, very few were killed. Only any who put up a massive struggle. Many were knocked out and tied up, brought to an area the Police would find them. With Justice, they brought down the operations of the Heavenly Host, bringing them to their knees.

They didn't stick around to watch them get arrested, instead moving on to the Kingdom.

Fate ducked behind a wall as machine guns screeched, as bullets ripped through stone and plaster, intent on meeting their target. "The hell do we do now?!" Dane snapped at him, hands shaking as they clutched the pistol without much conviction. If he wouldn't get shot dead, he probably would have surrendered.

Fate took off the Helm, peeking around the corner. He put it back on once he was back in safety. "Destiny betrayed us." he growled, then went to one of the crates. He rifled through until he found a scary looking gun. They stared as he aimed, steadied himself, and fired.

The group stumbled a bit as the force of the black hole attempted to suck them in. It quickly closed, once a good chunk of their enemies had fallen in. He shot it a few more times, but there were too many. In fact, way too many for the numbers they knew. Fate slid back into place, looking to Justice.

"I was afraid this might happen-- The void of leadership meant a lot of gang members went to the Kingdom and the Host. Then word got around we were going for the Host... So they ended up here." Justice winced. "Even if we all went Kamikaze, they'd still wipe us out with hundreds to spare. Probably." he shrugged, then jerked back as a grenade landed beside him. He tossed it back, grumbling about shitty aim.

Fate cursed. "Get your men--" But there was silence as the helm dinged. The neck of the figure jerked a bit as his head met the wall with the boot of a S.W.A.T member kicked at his skull. Then, at gun point, the others were told to lower their weapons. The shooting had stopped. The gangs were still.

Gat looked to the group, then slowly nodded. They grumbled and cursed, but agreed, standing with hands up. To their surprise, the gang members didn't. In fact, they seemed smug. The King, self-proclaimed leader, strutted over. "Keep these ruffians off our turf next time." he told the squad leader, who glared, but nodded.

They were forcibly led off, Kent being dragged behind. He was thrown in the back of a car, and Gat struggled until he was thrown in with him. He stayed with the other, worried for his sake.

"...Yo... Anyone home?" he asked, shaking Kent. He didn't bother looking at the swat team in the front. Tinted and bulletproof glass sat between them anyways.

Slowly, the other sat up, groaning quietly. "...I'm awake. Been better, though." He took off his Helm, setting it aside. "My ears are still ringing." he added, slowly laying on his side.

Johnny looked down at him, brows furrowed. "...You know you're probably..." He glanced to the front seat. Kent nodded. "...You ain't scared?" he asked.

Kent laughed, leaning back. He looked tired. So much older than he had seen before. The weight of life had crashed down on this poor unfortunate soul. "...Oh, I'm scared. I'm scared shitless. ...I've died before, but.... Never like this. Where it's a permanent thing. It's usually CPR this, or adrenaline that, sew up this artery.... That kind of a thing. ...But..." He covered his face. "But I can't let them see. I can't let them know. Because that would let them win."

"You act like this is a game. You say cryptic things, do weird shit-- Why don't cha just be honest fo' once in ya fucking life?" The black-haired man snapped.

The blond fell silent, then peeked out. "Because all my life I've been hiding as someone I'm not." He replied softly. Slowly, he took his hands away. "...I had agoraphobia as a kid. I couldn't go to school because I'd have these horrible attacks. I couldn't trust anyone but my father. My mother... She died in childbirth. When my father died, there was no one who would know me. I was a nobody. ...I knew I wouldn't live long, so I put up a disguise. A facade. I stopped caring.... So that way I wouldn't have to hurt anymore. I wouldn't be afraid..."

Kent rubbed at his eyes. "I don't know who I am anymore. ...Because when my father died, so did I. I became someone- something else. And I can't justify myself to you, because I can't see anything wrong. I can't be honest because I have been... Up to a fault. But... No one knew me. No one knows me. Not even me. And I'll die that way. With no one knowing me. Or even caring. There are seven billion people on this earth... What does one less matter?"

Gat took his face in his hands. "Because that one life has done more for this fuckin' world than any other one has tried. Because you gave a damn. Because you cared that much. Because that one life makes thousands, hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions better." he retorted, then impulsively moved in to shut him up in the best way he could think of.

When the blond flushed, staring up at him with open confusion, he managed to mumble something about "But didn't you want me to talk?" to which Gat retorted. "Sometimes, you need ta shut the fuck up."

Though he had not been rejected, Gat didn't try to make another move. He instead pulled the other closer and held his hand as they waited. Even as they arrived at the prison, he knew with sinking dread this wouldn't last. The other's hand slipped from his, and he slowly stood as the van finally stopped. He was escorted out, then Kent was taken away with armed guards. ...He was turned away, kicked out. His superior officer was waiting for him at the gates.

"You know, Lieutenant, I don't know what's worse. The fact you tried to fight a gang by becoming one, or the fact you blatantly disregarded the safety of yourself and your team." Cyrus Temple said, then gestured to his car. "Get in. We're going to have a long talk."

The ride was mostly silence. Only when they pulled up to a stop light did the other start talking. "Now, we're going to have all charges dropped. But only if, in court, if you testify against Fate." He stated. Gat sat straighter, but didn't say anything.

"The others you captured tonight and the last few days will be quietly released, and then--"

Johnny jolted forwards. "What?! No. Fuck that. You listen to me-- I don't give a shit what they promised you, but gangs are never any fuckin' good! That's why we were trying to have them wiped off the damn map! So if you release them, you release Kent, because if you don't you'll have to deal with; not only our resignation, but our court case to prove you're dirty, the subsequent proof that majority of what Kent was good, and I'll drag your rep through the mud." he snapped, barely restraining himself from launching at the other in the back seat. The driver glanced up for a brief moment.

Cyrus lifted a gun. "That's why we never saw eye to eye. So, now, either you do as you're told, or I blow out your brains."


	11. End Of The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems things have reached the breaking point

As the gun raised, there were many things that flashed through Johnny's head. But regret wasn't one of them. He sat, ready to take a stand for what he believed in. ....He didn't have to.

There was a bang as a second hand flashed into view. The Driver. Taking off her hat, Vengeance pulled a sudden U-Turn. "Fucking hate politicians. Now, we're going to break out Fate." Her gaze flickered up and she quirked a brow. Second later, she pulled over as Justin hopped into the back, throwing out Cyrus' body for one of the imps to take care of. Then Destiny hoped into the front.

Johnny watched as they slammed on the pedal and jolted back as they zoomed ahead. They all pulled out a variety of interesting guns. "Stun tech. No need to kill anyone." Justice assured as he handed one over. He powered it on, slowly nodding, then looking to the Kingdom member.

"I'm sorry. ...Cyrus had promised he vould let Justice go free if I betrayed you... But now I know somezhing... Important. But zhat doesn't matter right now. Ve have to save Kent. And end zhis. Zhe gang violence? It ends. Now."

They were quickly stopped by a roadblock, leaving them no choice but to exit and open fire on the S.W.A.T. team that stood in their way. Then there was the Kingdom.

"Silly silly Sibrand. You didn't think I would just let you run off on your own, especially given your previous choices... Did you?" The King laughed, waving a device. "This is a tracker."

Sibrand, or rather Destiny, cursed out the King, then drew his sword, rushing forwards. "I had such faith and trust in you! My Royal Guardsman! And then you betrayed me-- BETRAYED US!" The King roared.

Behind them, more were gathering... But all in the color red. A smattering of grey, black and white showing up in the alleys signified the survivors of the other gangs, loyal to their Lieutenants, had shown up. They rushed out to face their own kind, and a massive Gang War broke out. Johnny was grabbed by Vengeance and dragged past the fight, the quartet heading towards the prison.

"STOP!" Bellowed the King, shooting at them. Sibrand turned a second too late, but Vengeance and known. She had known and let go of Gat, throwing herself in the way. A shot to the head. She went down. Justice screamed, but Sibrand was quicker, throwing the other over his shoulder and booking it. Johnny followed, trying not to feel the creeping guilt.

When they finally made it in the gates, Sibrand was on the phone, growling threats and telling them to make damn sure they caught the King and he would be the one to behead him. That was enough to placate him.

They charged in with stun guns, taking out the waves of officers as they headed to the detainment wing. They stormed the block, and eventually made it to where Kent was. They forced the door open with a downed Guard's keycard. Then they grabbed the Blond, rushing him out. He did get free, though, and headed to grab his helm. Gat waited for him. They grabbed guns and headed out.

Reinforcements had arrived.

Guns aimed at them. Destiny lay, bleeding out, on the floor, reaching for the corpse of Justice. Then he, too, kicked the metaphorical bucket, eyes rolling back as his head hit the floor with a thunk.

Kent and Johnny shared a look. But their gaze wasn't the same. As Johnny dropped his gun, raising his hands, the blond leapt, grabbing the falling weapon and shooting at the guards. He avoided several shots while taking out the replacements, but he was only one man against an army of trained men.

Gat watched as the infamous Fate slammed into the ground, a hole where his chest had been. The mess was almost unbearable. It was horrific. No one deserved that.

And yet, there he lay.

Johnny was grabbed, and cuffed, put into the room where Kent had once sat. He sat numbly, waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. He was then released. To his bewilderment, it was Dane who picked him up.

"The Gangs... Destroyed themselves. Everyone died in the streets... Any survivors ran, or were arrested. Or gunned down. Kent had left a will... saying that he had forced you. You were to inherit everything of his as recompense... And I paid bail, just in case." The man noted.

He sat back, staring blankly. "...He... They..."

Dane looked away, not meeting his gaze in the mirror and falling into silence.

What did one say to the man who lost the battle, but somehow won the war?


	12. Epilogue: Some Things Never Change

Kent's funeral was a quiet event. Open casket. He was prettied up to be sent into the ground. He wore his Helm, as he always would.

Gat set down the first flower. The rest of the team followed suit. So many fresh graves had been dug, but the four most important were before the group. 'Sibrand Schmidt', 'Justin Schmidt', 'Kent Schmidt', and 'Allison Schmidt'. They had been a family and never realized it. Each adopted by a different family that felt they deserved to be returned to their roots. Kent had never known his siblings. And never would.

Gat, on the other head, was suffering a hard hit. He had just opened up. He had finally gotten Kent to open up. And then he was lost to him.

"This is it, huh." he spoke softly, the others falling silent to listen. "Here we stand. The rainiest day we could pick. We won. And yet... we lost. There was so much we could have done different. Some many things we coulda changed. But this is how it ends. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, all that crap. ...But our work. It isn't over. Stilwater... It's just the beginning. For Kent, an' for the rest. We put an end to this."

There was a quiet cheer, nervously echoed by each person.

* * *

"Sweet Gat. Always knowing what to say." The man stated, standing under the protection of a tree, Umbrella brim low so one couldn't see his face. "...Perhaps... In another life... We could have... ... ...Ha. To still think on it..." He sighed, tilting his head back, blue eyes gleaming along with the polished silver of the helm.

He turned, and silently tread a path weaving through the cemetery, heading towards the woods.

* * *

Gat sat at his desk. New city, new gangs, new info was needed. He scrawled down a few notes as he watched footage on his computer.

"Hey, Boss, we got a letter for you. It might be a trap, though. I mean, it was addressed specifically to you." Kinzie warned.

Gat snorted. "You'd think people would get ti'ed of tryina kill me." he noted with a curling smirk as he opened the letter. Then he froze, taking his sunglasses off.

' _Dear Lieutenant Gat,'_ It read.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks!


End file.
